


お子ちゃま戦争（Childish War）

by xLightningToki



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLightningToki/pseuds/xLightningToki
Summary: Most people at this age would expect every fairytale to begin with the words “once upon a time”, and often those fairytales would consist of beautiful princesses, daring knights, horrible monsters and unexplainable wizardry, and they were guaranteed to have satisfying endings that would leave the readers jubilant and wanting the stories read over and over again.Alas, I could call my story anything but wonderful.Oh, it wasn’t tragic, per se, but it was an utmost chaotic tale that I dared not tell other young children, for fear that they would receive bad influence from the two children that I had to deal with every day. And believe me, they were by far the most nerve-wracking pair I had ever known in my entire life.





	お子ちゃま戦争（Childish War）

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Once again, I don’t own the song nor any of its contents, but I might directly use the translated lyrics word by word in some parts the story.  
> ※Please do not reprint without my permission.※

Most people at this age would expect every fairytale to begin with the words “once upon a time”, and often those fairytales would consist of beautiful princesses, daring knights, horrible monsters and unexplainable wizardry, and they were guaranteed to have satisfying endings that would leave the readers jubilant and wanting the stories read over and over again.

　　Alas, I could call my story anything but wonderful.

　　Oh, it wasn’t tragic, per se, but it was an utmost chaotic tale that I dared not tell other young children, for fear that they would receive bad influence from the two children that _I_ had to deal with every day. And believe me, they were by far the most nerve-wracking pair I had ever known in my entire life.

　　You see, I worked as a butler for the royal twin princes of the Kagamine Kingdom. The younger brother, Rinto, was an absolute heathen—he constantly played pranks on children and adults alike, and always had a malevolent attitude towards commoners, calling them low-life fools and scoundrels. Once, he had told me with a haughty air, that should they ever starve, we did not have the obligation to provide them with free loaves of bread. “Let them eat cake!” he had cackled instead, leaving me to shake my head and report his declaration to his parents, his Majesties Gakupo and Luka. I only hoped that he would grow up to abandon such a parochial outlook on people of—oh, how should I call it?—“a lower social status”.

　　The older boy, a gentleman named Len, was not as proud and mischievous as his brother. He was a serious and studious lad who did not have a great sense of humor, and he was the literal manifestation of absolute propriety. He was well-mannered and liked by young ladies (although he was only interested in a particular maiden named Rin), and his charm attracted people of all ages, save his twin. Yet, he claimed that he did not bring any sort of trouble in the household unlike Rinto, in which his statement I unfortunately thought as a paradox. Technically he didn’t worry his parents, but he still gave me heaps of stress whenever he and Rinto had arguments, and their fights were always loud and sometimes resulted in at least one of the siblings being whisked away by the maids to check for scars and bruises. (Of course, they didn’t reveal such things to the good king and queen, those poor souls. Why, their hearts would jump in terror if they learned that their own children were being so violent towards one another!)

　　Anyway, the last thing I wanted was to be dragged into their shenanigans, but they certainly didn’t seem to care about my opinions when it came to those things.

　　One particularly sunny morning, I was requested to meet the twins in their bedroom. Oddly enough, they only asked for my presence and not for any other necessities. When I approached the bedroom door, I knocked on it gently to hear two youthful voices yell back, “Come in.” (One sounded much more ear-piercing and ruder than the other, so I assumed that it was Rinto who had chosen to scream the command.)

　　I opened the door and entered the room before shutting the door behind me. “You called, Your Highnesses?”

　　“Ah, so you came, Mr. Kaito,” Len said smoothly, giving me a warm smile, with Rinto screaming “Took you long enough, Kaito!” in the background.

　　“Yes, Your Highnesses. You seemed quite urgent, so I came as quickly as I could and”—I nearly dropped the handkerchiefs that were hanging on my arm—“what on Earth are you two holding?”

　　The twins were each holding in their hands what appeared to be a giant piece of silverware at least twice their height—Len a knife and Rinto a fork. I scrunched my eyebrows and stepped forward to take a closer look of the props. To my immense relief, they were plastic.

　　I still spluttered, “What… How… Where did you get these things?”

　　“Do you like it?” Rinto asked, twirling around with his fork in his grasp. “Father and Mother bought it for us. These are our new toys. They make great sparring tools!”

　　“For _you_ , at least,” Len growled, pointing an accusing finger at his brother’s chest. “You just want to provoke me again, don’t you? I’m not having it!”

　　I slapped my forehead, restraining myself from announcing that the king and queen were a pair of imbeciles for purchasing such weaponry. Sometimes it was simply too dangerous to keep on spoiling children, especially those who grew up wealthy and waited from head to toe. (I hope, dear reader, that you do not or will not do the same to your children, if you have any. Believe me, it will only become worse should you even try.)

　　Clearing my throat, I continued, “That aside, why did you ask for me?”

　　“Ah, yes.” Len placed his knife aside and clapped his hands. “You see, my good butler, Rinto and I had another of our infamous…disputes.” He sighed when he saw me sag, while Rinto simply smirked as if he had discovered something completely new to mankind. “We have made a decision that I hope you will take part in.”

　　“Just…” I flapped my hand about. “Just tell me the whole story, please.”

　　“Then I’ll commence.”

　　Len turned around, as graceful as ever, till he reached a velvet red armchair. He sat himself upon the chair and clasped his hands together, his legs crossed and his eyes glittering. “You know this already, but there needs to be an heir to the throne.”

　　“Assuming there isn’t a revolution,” Rinto muttered to himself, and Len shushed at him violently. I wondered, if Len were a cat, then his fur would be standing on end and his tail would be pointing straight towards the ceiling.

　　“As I was _saying_ (before my dear brother interrupted me), everyone expects the kingdom to have an heir. Usually the throne would go to the firstborn child, but seeing as Father and Mother had twins, we have a bit of a dilemma here.”

　　“Technically _you_ are the firstborn, Your Highness,” I weakly pointed out.

　　“So it is,” he agreed, nodding. “But Rinto does not think it fair in the slightest. He is only younger by a few minutes. For him, that hardly makes an age difference.”

　　“Therefore…” Rinto sauntered forward, his chest puffed out and his eyes gleaming. “Len and I have decided that we would compete to see who is worthy for the throne, and you will be our arbiter.” He lifted his head, and I noticed that his large orbs held some sort of mad glee. “This is war!”

　　I had the strong urge to scurry out of the room and howl in exacerbation. Why did I, of all people, have to be unfortunate enough to partake in another of the twins’ squabbles?

　　(“See, this is why they are labeled as the Brothers of Heaven and Hell,” my co-worker Meiko had said to me once drunkenly as I was complaining about their misconduct.

　　“Please watch your tongue. And for goodness sake, stop drinking!” I snapped back.)

　　But all I said was, “I request an abrogation. This sounds absolutely ridiculous.”

　　“NO!” the twins hollered at the same time, and I struggled not to stumble on the floor as I covered my ears. Were those two always that noisy together? I didn’t want to know.

　　“If you really want one, tell our parents,” said Len first, “and we’ll see how well that will turn out.”

　　To my dismay, he had a point. The twins always acted like darlings in the company of their parents, but once the couple was out of the room, all peace and quiet would dissipate, being replaced with utter disorder. The king and queen knew that Len and Rinto fought, but that was expected of siblings. But they would never believe me if I told them that the twins—hmm, what do children call it these days?— _hated each other’s guts_. They would think that I was daft.

　　“You _cannot_ opt out,” Rinto said to me, his hands resting on his hips. “This is a serious matter! You need to decide who’s fit.”

　　“I’d rather not…”

　　“You _must_ ,” Rinto insisted. “We’ll have our competition tomorrow. Prepare to be mindblown, got it?”

　　I didn’t even give him a reply. Instead I shook my head, turned my heels around and excused myself. What an uproar it would be in the servants’ hall when I told them what I had seen that morning!

* * *

At first, all the twins did was try to appease me by corroborating their positive qualities (at least, that was what they believed) in hopes of gaining my vote of who should be the heir to the throne.

　　Len obviously had an advantage. He was almost perfect—he was polite, kind and understanding. That, and I always felt more comfortable of his presence than his younger brother. He knew of my pains and tried to heal them. He knew of my joys and tried to emphasize them. He did whatever he could to make me feel home at the palace, and I loved him dearly for his efforts. If not for him, I might have quit my job as a royal butler a long time ago. (I’m sure you know who was the root of my grievances.)

　　There was a drawback, however. Len was an absolute perfectionist. He would give people strict instructions on how to complete a task, and he expected no flaws or other external issues. Everything must go according to plan. If not, his face would turn red, he would bite his cheeks to prevent anything harsh spilling from his mouth, and give you a hard stare that bore to your very soul. The boy was generally happy, but during the few times he was ever vexed, it was never a pretty sight.

　　Then again, Rinto had some perks. True, he could be a greedy, conniving little brat who turned up his nose at anyone he deemed as pathetic, but he still had a heart, although it was buried very deep. He was surprisingly friendly towards children, because he thought that they were innocent. He was also quite protective of woodland animals and always managed to save them from becoming roadkill whenever he saw a carriage drive way too swiftly towards them.

　　So, he didn’t think that children and non-human animals were pathetic, but he could certainly say something contrary about lazy adults. Hence, his “Let them eat cake!” statement, even though that would have caused some uproar in the poorer sections of the kingdom. His main belief was that people must work hard in order to rightfully earn something. But he also believed that all poor adults were lazy adults. Len would argue otherwise, but Rinto would accuse him of being a “goody two-shoes”. I just wanted to retreat before their disputes got out of hand.

　　I tattled my observations of my twins to my co-workers in the servants’ hall. Miku, the housekeeper, looked at me with sympathy. “I still can’t believe that they dragged you into their scuffles, Mr. Kaito,” she said softly.

　　“It can’t be helped,” I replied, shaking my head as I relaxed under her presence. “They are a pain in the neck, though.”

　　“Why not just ask for a forfeit and call it a day?” asked Meiko, carrying a pile of a dozen plates to the kitchen. Her face was flushed and her eyes slightly hazy. That meant she had drank some sake recently.

　　“They wouldn’t like that.” I frowned. “And please refrain from drinking while working, Meiko.”

　　“Aw, shut it.”

　　“I’m surprised that she hasn’t broken any vases yet,” Gumi, another servant girl, giggled. “Her Majesty would have a fit! Wouldn’t that be funny?”

　　“Oh, we’ll have to replace them. His Majesty Gakupo wouldn’t be happy about that!” Miku added.

　　“Like I said, shut it!” But Meiko’s words were so slurred that barely anyone heard her.

　　Gumi turned to me. “So in the end, you can’t choose between those two? What a shame.” Her teeth flashed as she gave me a malicious grin.

　　I waved my hands around frantically, quite unlike my usually calm demeanor. “I don’t want to upset them. Besides, if I chose one of them, then the other will have my head!”

　　“They won’t do that.”

　　“Oh? Says who?”

　　“Says me.”

　　“Guys, calm down!” Miku pleaded. “Let Mr. Kaito wait until tomorrow. He’ll make a final decision then. If he can’t choose, he’ll declare a draw. He’s stubborn, so the twins will have no choice but to accept his choice. All right?”

　　Deep in my mind, I berated myself for not thinking of that sooner. The plan _could_ work, assuming that the twins didn’t attempt to kill each other the next day. “Yes, that sounds fine.”

　　…Like I said, as long as the twins didn’t kill each other. They could’ve had the chance so many times before. I just hoped that they would be civil towards one another for one more day.

* * *

I was almost proven wrong.

　　When I entered the twins’ room the next morning, I sensed a thick, gray cloud of apprehension engulfing the entire area. Len and Rinto were staring at each menacingly, sitting opposite of each other with their arms crossed and their eyes flashing.

　　The first thing that came out of my mouth was, “All right, what are you two up to _now_?”

　　“Took you long enough, Kaito,” said Rinto, his grip on his arms tightening. (Didn’t he say the exact same thing a few days before?) “The showdown is beginning.”

　　“Agreed,” said Len, his lips pressed together. “Have you made your mind yet, Mr. Kaito?”

　　“As a matter of fact,” I responded coolly, “I have not. Care to give some final evidence?”

　　The brothers gave each other identical glares, and I knew that the hostility in the room would only increase by tenfold.

　　“Well, then,” Rinto sneered, “I’ll start off.”

　　He stood up and reached to grab his giant fork prop while Len did the same for his knife. (I was becoming more wary just by seeing that.) Then, he began to rant like there was no tomorrow.

　　“Big brother, since you usually do all this about all of the time, being so weak”—here Len screamed an indignant “Hey!” while I clicked my tongue—“I am going to become assertive enough for us both. I want you to thank me a bit more.” Here I snorted. As if that would happen. There was no way that Len would grovel in front of his younger sibling. He was too proud to do that. “Even though he’s older, he’s not at all reliable; ‘big brother’ is just a name.” He placed a hand on his chest. “From today, I’m the big brother, okay? This is my decision! Yes, my decision!”

　　A tick mark appeared on Len’s burning face, and I knew that he was titillated by Rinto’s harsh claims. “Oh, really now?” he growled. “I don’t think you should think so highly of yourself, _dear brother_.”

　　Oh, dear. Here went nothing.

　　Len slammed his fist on the nearest table, his eyes gleaming with an uncharacteristic glare. “Since you always wildly run around by yourself, I can never avoid having to clean up after you.” By this, Rinto howled like a banshee. “I’m not really incompetent; I’m just prudent. All the maids and the butler, too, have already said so.” (“Please don’t drag me into this,” I sighed.) “So really, please settle down a little bit for me, okay?” When Rinto gave a squawk that sounded like a note of refusal, the other boy exclaimed while covering his ears, “Argh, come on! Shut up.”

　　That set Rinto off. I slowly backed away from them, towards the door, as the younger twin stamped his foot.

　　“Shut up?! Me?! How about _you_ shut up?!”

　　“Ha! I’d like to see you try!”

　　“Bring it!”

　　“I will!”

　　Then, much to my horror, the twins suddenly charged at each other, props at the ready, and began slapping at each other with the fake silverware, all the while screaming defamations at each other and playing tug-of-war with their hair. I was tempted to call the maids over again to send them to the infirmary, or, even more satisfying, send Meiko over so that she could box their ears. It was terrible—absolutely, positively terrible.

　　Thus, I did something that I had never expected to do while working in the royal palace. I raised my voice and bellowed, at the top of my lungs:

　　“For goodness sake and Their Majesties’ health, SILENCE, BOTH OF YOU!”

　　The twins stopped, their fists left in midair, as the swiveled around to gawk at me with widened eyes. So _that_ was how I could gain their attention. Impressive.

　　I rubbed my forehead, nursing an upcoming headache. “My apologies, Your Highnesses,” I said, “but your hollers and bloodthirst are not going to help me make a decision _at all_.”

　　The boys didn’t respond, only stepping away from each other to gaze at me guiltily. Ah, such children. It seemed as though they hadn’t realized how disruptive they were until now.

　　My gaze softened, so I continued, “Anyhow, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve already made up my mind.”

　　Aha. So _that_ sparked their interest. But deep down I was snickering when I spun my heels around and made my way to the door, announcing with a hint of a smile:

　　“It’s a draw.”

　　Then I exited the room, closing the door to hear a perfectly synchronized “ _Eh?!_ ” echo across the corridors. Meanwhile, the nearby servants were barking with laughter, as I shook my head and exhaled a sigh of relief.

　　Let us say that the Kagamine twins no longer caused any migraines in the palace from that moment forth. And so concluded their pernicious Childish War.


End file.
